


Catch the Moments as They Fly

by Empy (Empyreus)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28718463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empyreus/pseuds/Empy
Summary: Written for Melime for the 2020 round of the Lord of the Rings Secret Santa exchange, for the prompt "In those moments "in between" (camping, waiting to be called to battle, during Frodo's recovery) romance blossoms".
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53
Collections: Lord of the Rings Secret Santa 2020





	Catch the Moments as They Fly

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Melime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Melime) in the [LotR_SeSa_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LotR_SeSa_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  "In those moments "in between" (camping, waiting to be called to battle, during Frodo's recovery) romance blossoms"
> 
> Here's one in between moment. I hope you like it!

_Wha kens, before his life may end,  
What his share may be o' care, man?_

_Then catch the moments as they fly,  
And use them as ye ought, man_

\- Robert Burns -

He found the Elf walking up a wide cobbled street leading up the gate connecting it with the level above, his steps long and determined. In the falling dusk and among the slate and granite of the towers and spires of Minas Tirith, his pale hair shone like a splinter of citrine catching sunlight. For a moment, Gimli merely appreciated the sight, but then quickened his pace to catch up, trying his best to ignore the curious gazes of the few guards still going either to or from their posts. He returned a stray greeting with the barest of politeness, more intent on not losing sight of Legolas.

His footfalls echoed, but when he stopped for a moment, he realized they were the only sounds in the stillness. Legolas was as soundless on cobbles as he was light on snow, Gimli mused. 

Up ahead, as if alerted by the sudden cessation of Gimli's footsteps, Legolas halted and looked over his shoulder.

"Gimli." Legolas did not sound surprised in the least, but what must have been meant as a welcoming smile seemed a little worried. "Walk with me."

"If you make your steps a little shorter. I have no desire to make this evening walk a run."

Though Legolas's face was unmarred by frown or knitted brows, Gimli thought he could see a tense set to the Elf's jaw. The stride was easy, but he had travelled with Legolas for long enough to see that there was something weighing on him.

"Which worry is it you seek to outrun?" he finally asked. They had stopped near the curved balustrade of one of the many balconies on the higher level, but still stood in the dim alcove.

Legolas frowned minutely before offering a wan smile. "Fleet feet serve poorly when what chases you needs no feet." Walking out onto the balcony, he cast a quick glance up. Drawing on what he remembered of the layout of the city, Gimli guessed he was looking up at the lamplit facade of the Houses of Healing. "Or perhaps I have run so much and through such horrors of late that my body cannot stop and will not rest."

"Were I among my kin, I would suggest a pipe and a pint, but the former you would not take and the latter I cannot offer as I am as much a guest of this city as you are." He gave a little chuckle as he lit his own pipe in the shelter of the alcove before joining Legolas out on the balcony. "And it would not take much of the edge off, either. I have seen you down strong ale like spring water. But jests aside, you seemed to be looking for something. Or escaping something."

"Perhaps both," said Legolas. "Escaping my thoughts. Looking for..." He broke off, looking down at his hands, then out over the city below and the Pelennor beyond it. When he spoke again, his voice was thoughtful. "When fighting one sees only what has to be seen, that which has to be anticipated and parried. Fought off. One does not have the luxury of time to see that which is not a threat, unless it be in passing." Legolas paused, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face as a gust of night air made the lamps gutter. "No time to see that which is subtle. Not ostentatious or threatening, but merely a presence." He frowned, reconsidering. "A kind presence. A comfort. That which heartens but does not intrude."

Drawing on his pipe, Gimli watched a few sparks skitter up with the smoke. "Aye. There is no time for the heart when steel is clashing too close to it." Or when steel is clashing too close to another heart, he thought. Had his heart not beat just that little faster in the foolish moments when he had thought the Elf might have bitten off more than he could chew or overestimated the reach of his arrows? 

The night air was cool but not cold, and he realized it had been some time since he had last stopped to do something as simple as considering it. It seemed he had been on the verge of drawing a breath for days or weeks on end, buoyed on a cascade of battle and terror. He was still tense, still evaluating each sudden sound or movement, hand ever reaching for the haft of his axe. It seemed like an age since the last time he had been able to trust that things were as they had always been. 

The city of stone, hewn it seemed out of the mountainside, should have brought him comfort, but did not. Moria should have welcomed him with life and laughter, but did not. 

He should have distrusted any Elf, fey and stiff-necked as they were. But he did not.

He had distrusted them at first, had done it more than once, had bristled at the council in Rivendell and voiced his objections after that, had glared daggers and resolved not to let this princeling get the better of him. But slowly, like the inexorable wear of water on stone, his resistance had begun to falter. Not strongly, but in flickers and moments, until he realized that steely resolve was now beat as thin as gold leaf. As thin as a green leaf.

"That kind presence, the one supporting, may wish to be seen as more than that," he said at length. He cleared his throat, feeling as though the words were sticking there. "May be wishing to be looked for rather than just seen in passing." And though the urge to merely look up at the dark sky to keep his words in line was strong, he turned to look Legolas in the eye. "And you have done that. Looked for me and been glad to see me. Looked at me with eyes unclouded by old strife or misgivings."

The Elf smiled, then reached out to set his hand on Gimli's shoulder. "I have looked because I have wished to see you. Wished to make sure you were hale and unharmed." A smile crooked the corner of his mouth. "And to gauge whether or not you were in the lead."

The unexpected jest caught him off guard, but only for a moment. "Will this care always be part one-upmanship? Would you look only for a game-opponent or for something else?"

"Your speech has grown very cryptic," laughed Legolas, and the sight of the ageless features now free from the worry that had clouded them earlier lightened Gimli's heart. "I thought Dwarves were known for their unadorned speech and straight-forward opinions. And yet here you weave and dodge like a swift, never settling to explain plainly."

The huff escaped him before he could stifle it. "You weave as much, with your talk of seeing. But so be it, if you wish to hear it spoken plainly: you have grown to mean a great deal to me, Legolas Greenleaf."

The confession seemed to hang in the air, giving him time to think and rethink in what seemed an eternity, though only a moment had passed. He did not regret it, not the sentiment, but wondered if he had perhaps chosen a poor moment.

"Well," said Legolas after considering for a moment, his face unreadable before lighting with another smile. "I wished to hear it spoken plainly and what I heard was what I had wished for. How full of surprises you are, Gimli son of Gloin."

And yet, Gimli mused a moment later, the greatest surprise that night was the soft kiss that followed. 

"That was one. How long until your count matches mine?" 

[END]


End file.
